


Heavy is the Head

by RedLights



Category: British Royalty RPF, Royalty RPF, The Crown (TV)
Genre: Canon Continuation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Marriage, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLights/pseuds/RedLights
Summary: But you could help me hold myself up.(The Crown after episode 1x09, because I want Philip and Elizabeth to be okay)





	

**Fandom** : The Crown (TV), British Royalty RPF  
**Pairing** : Queen Elizabeth II/Prince Philip  
**Genre:** romance, angst  
**Rating** : T for implied sexuality  
**Words** : 1,237

Elizabeth used to sneak into his bed at night. Once they'd moved into Clarence House, she would mess up the covers of her own bed (not that she was fooling the servants at all), then climb into Philip’s, where he always slept naked. They slept together, making love or holding each other or just sleeping peacefully with his arm around her, nearly every night.

Then, when they moved into Buckingham Palace, the doors of their connecting bedrooms were nearly always open. And each night, unless she had an early morning, she changed into her nightgown and slipped under the blankets of her husband’s bed. Elizabeth remembered those days with a sad smile on the nights that she feigned sleep so she didn't have to see her husband when he got home.

Even when he'd begun to drift away from her, Philip had never been so far away as he was now. Part of him, admittedly the larger part, resented her power over him, and yet she remembered days like the one when she'd told off her advisors. Something had clicked; she had felt like she could lift her head, always straining under the weight of the crown, to stand at her full height for the first time in months. He'd remarked with one of his patented suggestive smiles that she seemed taller, and she remembered with a blush (she may be a married woman, but she was still English) how she'd kneeled before him.

Now, his usual grumpiness was replaced with cold judgement, his only interactions with Elizabeth being ones of pointed indifference or intense disapproval and resentment. She saw glimpses of him — his flirtatiousness, his playfulness, his humor — only when he played with the children or, very rarely, if he didn't take offence at her current actions.

And yet at dinner that night, he'd mouthed _I’m sorry_. He was a proud man, and apologies from him were hardly a frequent occurrence, but he'd apologized. So Elizabeth sat at her vanity as her jewelry was removed and her hair undone and stared in the mirror without really seeing anything. With those two inaudible words she'd felt that warmth in her chest again, so strange to her now, and she couldn't help but want more. His smiles at dinner, small but genuine, reminded her of those first happy years together. She was always short of breath when he smiled at her.

She dismissed the maid to undress herself and reached to undo the fastening of her dress. Just then she heard the door open and close, and the steady footsteps of her husband. At the center of the hall, in between their two bedchambers, he stopped and looked at her. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than for him to come and hold her. She just wanted him to tell her everything would work out with Margaret, reassure her that she was doing a wonderful job, promise her he'd never think of another woman, even though she knew at least two of those things were untrue. Those steely blue eyes studied her in a way that always made her squirm, nervous and uncomfortable under his assessment, but Elizabeth held his gaze.

Philip dropped his eyes, chuckled once under his breath, and turned to walk slowly towards her. She still had one hand behind her, trying to undo the buttons at the back of her gown. Philip came up behind her and swatted her hand away to swiftly undo them himself. Her dress fell to the floor, and she was left in her shift and petticoat. She wriggled out of the underskirt, still facing away from him, and now only covered by her silk slip. She wasn't shy, not anymore, but she felt vulnerable now. Too much was wrong between them; he hadn't flirted with her, kissed her, loved her the way he used to in weeks now, or months.

Elizabeth took a breath and turned to face him. She knew he could see her chest rising and falling in an anxious rhythm, and he cocked an eyebrow.

“I don't bite, you know,” he said, his words playful but his tone serious, even wary.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and allowed herself a small smile. “Yes, you do,” she retorted.

“Oh, yes, so I do.” They both laughed, quick, short bursts of amusement, genuine but not enough to slice through the tension in the air. There was a pause, and husband and wife looked at each other, each trying to figure out the other.

“I don't want to argue anymore, Philip,” Elizabeth said finally. She looked at him in such a way that it seemed to squeeze his heart, even hardened as it was by everything that had happened. He gathered her into his arms, where she fit perfectly, small and soft against him. She wasn't Queen when he held her, she was just the woman he'd fallen in love with.

Elizabeth stiffened in surprise, then relaxed into his embrace. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I don't want to argue, either,” Philip responded. “I'm tired of our rows. No one ever wins when we have it out, have you noticed that?”

Elizabeth chuckled against his chest. “I have, indeed.” They both stood there, soaking it in, at peace with each other at least for now.

After a few minutes, the few minutes she had so needed, Elizabeth lifted her head and went to retrieve the nightgown that had been left out for her. She removed her undergarments silently and slipped the nightdress over her head, aware of his eyes on her body, before turning towards Philip. She hoped he understood the question in her eyes, because she couldn't say it aloud - not because she'd never been as forward as he, but because she couldn't bear to hear him say no.

Elizabeth climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up around her. After a few seconds she heard Philip’s clothes landing on the floor, and lifted herself onto her elbows. She admired his form not for the first time as he removed the last of his clothing and stepped towards the bed. He was angular, slim but strong, with lean muscles, narrow hips, and long legs. His blonde hair, blue eyes, sharp jaw, and high cheekbones made him strikingly handsome.

Philip caught her gaze just before he turned out the light and her cheeks coloured. He only grinned as the room went dark and slipped under the covers. She curled into him and he wrapped an arm about her, her head resting on his bare chest, as they had done so many times before.

“I need you, you know,” she whispered, almost inaudibly.

“I know, darling,” Philip responded, a note of surprise in his voice.

“No, I need you.” She said it more forcefully this time, needing him to understand. Elizabeth lifted her head to look at her husband. “I’m only strong enough to do this if you're here.”

Philip made a most unattractive scoffing noise, and his next words were tinged with bitterness. “You do just fine without me.”

Elizabeth looked down and responded quietly, “No, I don't.”

Philip looked at her until she met his gaze, and saw the broken heart behind her façade of strength. “I'm sorry, Lilibet,” he whispered. “I really am sorry.” He cradled her head in both hands and kissed her, a gentle kiss that nonetheless betrayed the violent emotions they both felt. He pulled her into him again and wrapped the blankets about them.

Elizabeth felt like she could breathe again, and slept well for the first time in ages.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like no one watches this show or would read the fanfiction, so comments are greatly appreciated & let me know if you're at all interested in reading more!


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